
It’s what I like to call the “Rickey Henderson Effect.” Back in 1985, I was 10 years old and went to my first baseball game. At the end of an inning, Rickey Henderson caught a fly ball and, as he ran into the dugout, he looked up at me and winked. It took Rickey a hundredth of a second to acknowledge me, but for the next five years of my life, I was his biggest fan. I bought everything “Rickey Henderson.”